


Bonding over Burgers

by Lonaargh



Series: Sterek [4]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Feels, Gift Fic, Guilt, I simply CAN'T call him Noah, I'm Sorry, John Stilinski - Freeform, M/M, Sheriff and Derek are bros yo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-03
Updated: 2017-08-03
Packaged: 2018-12-10 20:28:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11699316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lonaargh/pseuds/Lonaargh
Summary: SheriffJohnStilinski feels guilty. Stiles falsely accused Derek of being a murderer. Now, granted, the Hale boy did have a certain broodiness over him, but he didn't deserve being called a murderer. And Stiles is his son. A mere apology won't do, there must be something else he can do to make things up to Derek.~~“Hey! Get in.”Derek looked up, keeping his leisurely pace.
“Am I under arrest? If so-”“What? No. Of course not.”“Then why…?” Derek didn’t finish the sentence, but let the question hang in the air.John sighed, audibly annoyed, “Because it’s raining, it’s cold, you’re not wearing anything that’s remotely appropriate for this kind of weather, and I somehow don’t think you had dinner yet.”





	Bonding over Burgers

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Stilienski](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stilienski/gifts).



> Hellooooo! I've been in a writing slump for a while now, but the girls were enthusiastically talking about writing today. And that got me motivated enough to ask for a prompt for a tiny shortfic. Stilienski came up with the prompt for this little fic. So, Stilienski, love, here's to you!  
> I suck at notes and summaries, but there you have it :D

It was late, almost 10 PM. The streets glistened in the streetlights as a steady stream of rain hit the pavement. Sheriff John Stilinski sat in his car, chewing on his lip as he watched Derek Hale cross the street. Derek Hale, the boy… no, sorry, the _man_ who got falsely accused for murder. By John’s own son, nonetheless. Stiles and his friend, Scott. Best friends since forever, they always got in a lot of trouble. But usually they managed to use their brains to get out of said trouble. This time however, their antics resulted in potentially ruining someone’s life.

John felt guilty. He knew it wasn’t really his fault, but damnit, Stiles was his _son_. If he couldn’t take responsibility for the mistakes his son made, then who would? Well, Stiles himself, obviously. He knew Stiles had apologized to Derek for it all, but somehow mere apologies felt hollow when compared to the damage that was done. He gripped the steering wheel a bit tighter, his knuckles white in the faint light of the lamppost he was parked under. 

He watched on as Derek, hands thrust deep in the pockets of his jeans, started walking past the dark shops. Seemingly oblivious to the rain, seemingly without any real destination.

John sighed deeply, knowing his mind was already made up, and started the car. He turned on his headlights and windscreen wiper and slowly drove over to where Derek was walking. Derek kept on ignoring the world around him, his head slightly ducked into the collar of his leather jacket. He kept this up even when John started driving next to him while he was walking.

It wasn’t until John rolled his window down and called out to Derek.

“Hey! Get in.”

Derek looked up, keeping his leisurely pace. “Am I under arrest? If so-”

“What? No. Of course not.”

“Then why…?” Derek didn’t finish the sentence, but let the question hang in the air.

John sighed, audibly annoyed, “Because it’s raining, it’s cold, you’re not wearing anything that’s remotely appropriate for this kind of weather, and I somehow don’t think you had dinner yet.”

This stopped Derek in his tracks. His heavy eyebrows knitted in confusion.

“How did you know that?”

“Call it a police officer’s intuition. Get in, I’ll buy you some hot food.”

Derek seemed to be thinking about this, although his face betrayed nothing but his default stoic expression.

“Alright,” he said finally, “but I’m not sitting in the back like a criminal.”

John nodded and unlocked the passenger’s side door, “I wouldn’t dream of it,” he replied dryly. 

~~

The burger joint isn’t anything fancy, but it’s cozy and John knows that the food is good. And he is a somewhat of a regular (something that Stiles isn’t aware of and something that he desperately doesn’t want Stiles to know about).

“Well, look at what the cat just dragged in,” Doris, the waitress, called out when she saw John and Derek enter, “Have you started dunking your suspects in water, John? Look at the poor thing, he’s drenched!”

“Yes, Doris. It’s our new interrogation tactic. First drown them, then buy them burgers. It’s all very experimental, very hush hush. Do you think you have a towel to spare for him? To let him dry himself off a bit before he drips on your famous burgers.”

Doris threw her head in her neck and laughed, loudly, “Flatterer,” she scoffed, “but sure. I’ll get you a towel, love.” She winked at Derek, who rubbed his neck awkwardly as if he wasn’t quite sure how to handle this kind of attention. Doris turned her attention back to John, “Do you want the same as usual, times two?”

John looked at Derek, one eyebrow raised, “Fancy a burger? Best you’ll ever taste, I promise. And a coffee. Maybe not the best you’ve ever tasted, but at least it’s hot.”

“Yeah… sure. I could use a cup of coffee right now.” Derek answers slowly.

Doris nodded and brusquely walked off towards the kitchen as John and Derek sat down in one of the booths in the far end. It didn’t take long for her to return, an old but clean towel draped over her arm and a cup of hot steaming coffee in each of her hands.

“Here you go, boys. A hot brew and a dry towel. Enjoy.”

The silence was awkward, the only sound coming from the booth the sound of the towel rasping over Derek’s rough stubble. Forget a 5 o’clock shadow. This was a full dark 24 hours stubble. The proper term would probably be ‘beard’, but that’s a mere detail.

“So,” John finally broke the silence, clearing his throat a little, “what were you doing out in the rain?”

Derek’s voice sounded muffled as he put the towel over his head to dry his hair. “Walking.”

“I could see that. Any particular destination or reason?”

“Are you completely sure I’m not under arrest or being suspected of something, sheriff?” Derek asked, putting the now damp towel on the seat next to him. “Because it sure feels like you’re interrogating me.”

John put his hands up apologetically, “No. Not under arrest, no suspicion whatsoever. Just me being curious.”

He took a deep breath and decided to just come out with it, “And I wanted to apologize.”

Derek raised an eyebrow, waiting for John to elaborate.

“Stiles is my kid, as you probably already know-”

“Yes.”

“-and Scott is his best friend. And while they’re old enough to realize that what they’ve done is inexcusable and they are responsible for it, I can’t help but feel a bit guilty about the whole… being accused of murder-thing.”

Derek kept his eyes on the mug in front of him, his fingers idly playing with it, “Stiles already apologized,” he said, “there’s no need for you to-”

“Yeah, but ‘need’ be damned, I _want_ to do something more. And I felt that getting you out of the rain and putting some hot food and coffee in your belly is the least I could do.”

John ran his hand over his face, wishing he was better with words. Stiles definitely didn’t get that from him. 

They fell silent again as Doris showed up and put two plates with fries and burgers in front of them.

“Eat it up while it’s still hot,” she exclaimed, giving John a big fat wink as she walked away again.

Derek took a bite, and his normally so stoic face actually brightened a bit. “This is actually very good!” He exclaimed after swallowing.

“Well, of course, you didn’t think I’d invoke the wrath of Stiles for eating mere mediocre junkfood, did you?”

This got a slight snorting chuckle from Derek, “He’s got you under his thumb then?”

The sheriff scowled, “No, not ‘under his thumb’. He’s just very concerned about my health, that’s all. Needlessly, of course.” To emphasize this point, he took another large bit out of his burger and chased it with a swig of coffee.

Derek eyed him, chewing thoughtfully, “Not all that needless, I think?” he said, his voice suddenly soft, “Blood pressure a bit high? Cholesterol as well, maybe?”

John’s eyebrows shot up, “How in the world-”

Derek shrugged, a smirk playing on his lips, “Call it intuition.”

At the end of the evening, they were laughing at each other’s jokes. 

“Okay, listen, it’s time for me to head back to the station.” John stood up and nodded at Derek, “This was fun. You’re a good kid-”

“Kid?” Derek scowled.

“You’re a good kid,” John repeated, “We should do this again sometime.”

Derek nodded, smiling, “Sure. Why not. As long as you promise not to arrest me during dinner.”

The sheriff laughed and extended his hand to Derek, “I promise.”

Derek shook his hand, smirking back.

~~

“Oh man, you really have to taste this applepie. It comes very close to the one Claudia used to make before she-” The sentence trailed off as John realized what he’s saying.

“Claudia is your wife?” Derek asked, not taking his eyes off John’s face.

“Was,” John took a deep breath, “She died a few years ago. Frontotemperal dementia. It… it wasn’t easy. Stiles was devastated.”

“I can imagine. It must’ve been so hard on you. What was she like?”

For a few moments, John didn’t answer. The silence lasted long enough for Derek to say: “I’m sorry if my question was inappropriate. If you don’t want to talk about it…”

“No, no, it’s fine. It’s just that… I haven’t thought about her for so long. Not _really_ thought about her, if you know what I mean. It’s easy to say that she was nicest, kindest person I’ve ever met. But... “

“There is so much more about a person,” Derek murmured.

“Yeah. I mean, she made the _best_ applepie in the country. I have her recipe, but I’ve never managed to get it right. Stiles used to say it tastes like the feeling of love,” he laughed, shook his head, “the boy adored her. Hell, we both did. Whenever I had a bad day, all she had to do was come up behind me, wrap her arms around my waist and hold me like that for two minutes. Not saying anything, not doing anything. Just… hugging. And I would instantly feel better.”

Derek nodded as John kept talking, not interrupting the other man’s heartfelt story.

“She also loved to sing. Was horrible at it, though. But that never stopped her. She didn’t give a damn about what other people thought of her, she had her own mind.” His gaze met Derek’s. “It was the worst thing that could happen to her, in the end. She had her own mind. And it was taken away from her, slowly. Bit by bit. At first we were so happy when she had a ‘good’ day. But then the bad days started outnumbering the good days. And on the good days she would despair because she _knew_ that the dementia was taking over.”

He took a deep shaky breath, his throat tight with unspilled tears and emotion.

“Stiles was with her when she died. He took it hard. He loved her so much and he watched her die. Watched her basically disappear before his eyes. And I… wasn’t there for him.”

Doris walked up to the table, but stopped and turned back when Derek held up his hand and wordlessly shook his head. 

“After Claudia died I started drinking. A lot. It was the only way I knew to deal with the grief. Although I wasn’t really dealing with it. I hid in my work during the day and hid in alcohol during the evenings. Just like that, Stiles lost both his parents.”

“He doesn’t seem to resent you or anything, though.”

“Nah, he’s a good kid. After a few weeks I’d keep losing my bottles of whiskey. At first I thought I’d simply misplaced them, or had forgotten to buy them in a drunken haze. But it didn’t take me long to figure out Stiles kept hiding the bottles.” He laughed, humorlessly, “I was pissed, of course. But my pride prevented me from telling Stiles that I was on to him. There’s being a drunk, and there’s _admitting_ you’re a drunk. He kept hiding the bottles. Very well, I might add. I never found them. And trust me when I say that I looked everywhere. I even checked the trashcans of everyone in the neighbourhood. And eventually I realized I needed help. Which I got. And now I’m four years sober, and Stiles has a father again.”

“That must’ve taken a lot of courage.”

“Yeah, hiding those bottles was brave.”

“No, I meant you getting help. It’s not easy.”

John scoffs, “It wasn’t easy. But seeking refuge in alcohol was a coward’s move to begin with. Seeking help had nothing to do with courage, it had _everything_ to do with responsibility and common sense.”

Derek didn’t reply. Simply sat there, not taking his eyes off John.

“I wasn’t a very good father to Stiles then.”

“But you are a very great father to Stiles now.”

“Yeah. I suppose.” 

~~ 

“Sushi?”

“John, we’ve been eating the same burgers for over a year now. We need something new.”

“Yes, but, _sushi_? Raw fish? Why not go for a big juicy steak or something?”

“Stop your whining and get inside.” 

~~ 

“Where do you want to eat, John?”

“How about that sushi place? I really liked it last time.”

~~

“So, Derek, I’ve noticed that you haven’t ever mentioned a girlfriend in the two years that we’ve known each other.”

“Oh. Yes. That might be because I haven’t had a girlfriend in a while. Bad experiences.”

“I see, I see. You know, you can tell me if you’re-”

“I’m bi. So, no. That wouldn’t explain the lack of girlfriends. It even raises the question about the lack of boyfriends.”

Silence.

“You know… my son recently told me he’s bi as well…”

More silence.

“And, you know, he’s still single…”

“Oh my God, John, are you trying to set me up?”

~~

Stiles rubbed his eyes, waking up at 7 PM after a well deserved nap. He had been out with Scott and Derek all day, trying to hunt down the latest supernatural threat to Beacon Hills. 

He woke up because of the doorbell and his father jovially answering said doorbell. 

Visitors at this time of the day? Stiles frowned and got up, making his way downstairs.

He froze when he entered the kitchen.

There, completely at ease, his nicely shaped ass firmly planted on one of the kitchen chairs, sat Derek. With three cups of Starbucks coffee and a giant box of donuts.

“What the hell are you doing here?” he hissed, hurrying forward, “What if my dad sees you?”

Of course, that was the exact moment his father came strolling into the kitchen.

“Sorry to keep you waiting, Derek,” he said, to Stiles’s surprise. “Ah, Stiles, good to see that you decided to grace us with your presence. Have a nice nap?”

“Dad! I didn’t _nap_. I was… I was studying,” Stiles hissed, his cheeks burning a bright crimson. He was damned if he was going to let Derek know that being out hunting actually tired him out. 

“Sure. Try to snore a little quieter next time you’re ‘studying’,” his father said as he opened the box of donuts and took one of the cups of coffee.

“Had a rough day, Stiles?” Derek asked innocently, a smirk playing on his lips.

His dad handed both him and Derek a cup of coffee as well, “Drink up, Stiles. Then go get changed. You’re terribly underdressed for your date.”

“My what now?”

“Your date. Look at Derek here. At least he’s dressed impeccably. Now, hurry up. The movie starts at 8.30.”

“But I-”

“Go!”

Stiles put the coffee down and hurried up the stairs to take a shower and get dressed for a date. With Derek. Apparently. He couldn’t help but smile happily and his heart was racing when it really dawned on him. Downstairs he could the rumbling voices of Derek and his father, as they chatted amicably as if they were best friends. Somehow, Stiles couldn’t suppress the feeling that he has been missing out on some very vital information for a very long time.

This was something he was going to ask Derek about tonight. Probably. Hopefully, between all the kisses he was planning on giving Derek.

He turned on the shower and started whistling, already anticipating a wonderful date.


End file.
